


(living legend)-(живая легенда)

by KristleTribble



Series: VB Week 2017 (Yuri!!! On Ice) [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Gen, Healing, Witch Curses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 06:07:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13094019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KristleTribble/pseuds/KristleTribble
Summary: Part three of Viktor's Birthday Week 2017 (a Tumblr based fan week).An alternate universe where Viktor is a cursed warlock who lives a hermit's lifestyle, isolated away from other people who fear his uncanny talent with magic.A strange young man visits him one night, requesting his help to save a dog's life. Viktor, as he comes to learn who this stranger is, finds himself growing attached to him.





	(living legend)-(живая легенда)

Prismatic beams of light laid themselves upon Viktor's eyelids. The sound of a hooting owl in the branches above clued him to the time -- night. He sat up and looked around.

 

All was silent besides the owl's cries. The moon shone freely upon the forest floor outside of his hollowed trunk of a home, nestled safe in the crux of several overlapping tree roots.

 

 _I'm glad I awoke at the right time_ , Viktor thought.  _This is the right amount of moonlight._

 

His turquoise eyes peered out of the root house's window, towards the illuminated lake down in the valley. Viktor wasted no time in gathering his cloak and boots from near the door. His cloak and trousers would be enough, nevermind the bothersome tunic and the ties it possessed.

 

His canine companion peered out from underneath the bed to see the commotion, and then went back to sleep, seeming to recognize the event taking place.

 

Viktor closely reminded himself, as he hastily ran down the stone steps to the lake, that it didn't matter anymore. His last contact with other humans had been in the springtime, so no one was there to call him indecent for being in minimalistic pajamas.

 

Then again, he would be considered indecent for plenty of other things.

 

\-----

 

Viktor, as a young lad, lived in a sprawling town beyond the lake, in the hills. He was raised in a thriving apothecary's family, which had no quarrel with any customers. The business thrived; Viktor learned alchemical and medicinal lessons directly from his mother and father -- and his talents with experimentation only helped his artisan family survive.

 

His life was well, until he took one trip down to the lake beyond the hilltown. The townsfolk rumoured that the lakewater was cursed by the body of a dead witch, magic emptying into the surrounding lands.

 

Viktor was curious about the witch's powers. He calculated that small amounts of her soul essence in the water would be enough to make a special brew -- to keep his pet dog alive with him until he died.

 

It was a foolish endeavour. He could not recognize the dark magic for what it was. He released the powers of the witch with the mixture, and he became cursed with magical abilities.

 

Thankfully, given the genius Viktor possessed, the potion worked for his dog. The young silver-haired child, however, fell into bad luck with his overproductive magic. One fatal accident with a fireplace left his parents severely burned -- that night, he decided to flee the town before he could harm again.

 

He took his faithful companion and a minimal amount of supplies along with, scared to return to the town.

 

That was his life, back before his fifteenth birthday. Since then, he lived alone in the forests around the lake. Once in a while, he traded with travelers who did not know him for his undesired magic.

 

The hermit life suited him well, Viktor justified.

 

\-----

 

When he reached the edge of the lake, Viktor looked around. Not another soul was to be seen around him.

 

_Excellent._

 

He brushed the hair out of his eyes and began to concentrate on his spell -- turning the surface of the water instantaneously to thick enchanted ice.

 

Viktor sighed in satisfaction at his work and sat down on a nearby rock, tapping the sides of his boots. He had lost count of the number of night trips made to the lake over the years.

 

There was something out of a story he read as a child, where a sailor once saw a mermaid dancing atop the sea waves.

 

Well, Viktor improved the idea's plausibility with a little magic and ice. Over time, he found that narrow blades were the key to his success. He called it "ice flying", because the action felt more like soaring through the sky than a grounded dance (he knew so because he regretfully levitated himself once).

 

With the tap on his boots, the blades assembled beneath the soles. Viktor made sure his magic was stable, and then stepped eagerly onto the artificial ice.

 

He could feel stress melting away from his muscles near instantly, as he strided over the frozen lake. His eyes closed briefly, isolating the ambient forest rustle and his skates.

 

He hummed a tune to himself -- nothing grandiose -- which slowly turned into soft singing as he moved along. A few quick jumps, and Viktor had a rhythm going in his head.

 

Until he saw someone standing near the lake's edge, looking at him with a bundle in his hands. His legs anxiously stumbled and nearly buckled. Ever so cautiously, he tried to make it look like he never noticed the stranger's presence.

 

Viktor was panicking on the inside as he stepped off of the ice, sitting on the same rock and getting ready to take the blades away from his boots...

 

"Excuse me, uh, sir..."

 

"Hm?" Viktor put on a false smile as he looked up. "What?"

 

"Can you help my dog? He's really sick, and I don't know if he's gonna make it."

 

"Your dog?" Viktor looked at the bundle. The stranger opened the bundle slightly, revealing the dog in his arms. It hardly looked past being a puppy, undersized and sickly.

 

"Please? I was told there was a hermit out here who knew magic and medicine..." The stranger looked at Viktor's boots with a discerning look, trying to understand what they were. His brown eyes narrowed in confusion.

 

"I can help your companion." Viktor felt uneasy at how calmly this stranger simply walked up to him, and without hesitation. The town knew he was dangerous, surely he had a reputation, and this man before him no doubt had heard some questionable things about Viktor.

 

And yet, his struggle reminded Viktor of himself and his own dog Makkachin, who he granted equal longevity. He took pity, and let go of most of his paranoia.

 

The stranger's earthy eyes immediately lit up in joy, clutching the dog to his tunic even more hopefully.

 

Viktor tapped his boots again, removing the blades with reverse magic. "...Don't tell anyone you saw this, okay?"

 

"What are those blades on your boots? What happened to the lake...?"

 

"It's the magic you probably heard about." Viktor knelt and placed his palm down upon the ice, reversing it back to the normal swells of the watery lake surface from before. "It's an experiment I've been working on -- I'll treat your dog first before I rant anymore."

 

"Wow...."

 

"You've never seen magic before?"

 

"No...Uh, no.... Well, I thought I did once, but it was a street magician's trick, you know?"

 

Viktor smiled amusingly and stood to take a full look at the stranger. He was slightly shorter, with dark unkempt hair the colour of charcoal. His brown eyes were the colour of plowed and fresh soil, with near-hidden freckles adorning his cheeks. He squinted around occasionally, as if his eyesight were bad.

 

The hermit decided he was an attractive human.

 

"Follow me to my home. Let's see if I can find a curative for your precious friend..." Viktor ran a hand through his silvery hair and walked to the stone steps. "This way."

 

\--------

 

The two men walked in silence up the hill for a while. It was about halfway up that the stranger began asking questions about Viktor, and his lifestyle.

 

"What's your name, if you don't mind me asking?"

 

"Viktor. I left my last name behind a long time ago, so I'm simply just Viktor." The hermit turned his head to look at the stranger. "And you are?"

 

"Ah, I'm Yuuri. I'm the son of caravan traders who pass through the area every so often. We're not really anyone important, so I doubt my last name would mean much."

 

"Hm, okay."

 

"Your hair isn't natural, is it?" Yuuri ventured. Viktor's upper body tensed a bit as he pondered how to answer.

 

"No, Yuuri, it's not." Viktor's original hair colour was blond, but the witch's powers had leeched the colour out of his hair entirely. Just another detail to make him a pariah of the hilltown, it would seem.

 

"Magic??"

 

"Yes." The conversation had taken a frosty turn, Viktor thought. Then Yuuri smiled, and he changed his mind. This man had such an innocent smile, one that seemed to take the nervousness out of Viktor's thoughts.

 

"You're a living legend."

 

"...Why do you say that?"

 

"You use magic to do really amazing things -- like flying on ice! You remind me of a fey creature, like from right out of storybooks! And...you're saving my dog for me, so you're legendary to me."

 

Viktor thought his heart would give just from the music he was hearing in his ears. No person had ever given him this kind of praise in years -- no one said his magic was a positive skill, and yet this man had done that.

 

There was a whimpering noise from the sickly dog. Yuuri stopped his climb to reassure his pet. "Don't worry Vicchan. I found someone who's gonna help you. Just hold on a bit longer."

 

"Yuuri. We should hurry... for your Vicchan's sake." Viktor couldn't keep the smile off of his face for one moment.

 

"Yeah."

 

\---------

 

When the two finally arrived at the root house, Viktor apologized for the lack of tidiness inside. Viktor's own dog emerged from beneath the bed, movement groggy.

 

"I haven't had a visitor since the spring, so everything is a bit chaotic in here. Oh, and this is my own companion, Makkachin!" Viktor rubbed Makka's ears when the dog sat near his boots.

 

Yuuri chuckled merrily, making more music to Viktor's appreciative ears. The hermit hospitably pulled up an oak stool. "You can sit here."

 

"Thank you." Yuuri smiled again and sat down, leaning back against the wall. He cautiously handed Vicchan to Viktor, never taking his eyes of off the bundle. "Should we talk about payment?"

 

Viktor spread out the cloth that was wrapped around Vicchan upon the dirt floor, setting the creature down upon it. Makkachin returned to his place under the bed, eyeing Yuuri and Vicchan wearily. "No. I refuse to take payment for this."

 

"Why?" Yuuri's voice trembled in confusion.

 

"You remind me of myself. The payment is the lesson that is being taught to me." Viktor ignored Yuuri's baffled gaze and went to collect various herbs and pre-made salves. He hummed a tune under his breath, trying to gather focus.

 

Focus was the secret behind his magical prowess, it seemed. Viktor had to think solely about what he was doing, or else something else in his thoughts would dilute the spell and give other effects. If he thought about death...well...

 

If he thought of death, his power would be great enough to kill Vicchan. Viktor knew it was a gamble to do this, having not practiced life-based magic in a very long time. He trusted that his focus would be enough to pull through.

 

The moon been slowly climbing in the sky since Viktor met Yuuri, and no more light fell through the windows of the rootbound house. The owl no longer hooted, having gone off to hunt.

 

Viktor placed his medicines carefully around Vicchan's cloth, thinking of how to go about the task at hand. Yuuri watched him in wonder, anticipating his moves with an insatiable curiosity.

 

\---------

 

It was late in the night when Viktor finished his lengthy spell. Vicchan looked to be in a certainly better condition, but the hermit felt extremely drained.

 

For the spell to work, Viktor needed life force. He purposefully didn't tell Yuuri this, but he took some of his own energy and gave it to Vicchan. Now the silvery-haired magician felt feverish and ill himself.

 

Yuuri was nearly nodding off, but Viktor's shaky voice woke him near instantly. "Done and all better."

 

The hermit's charcoal-haired guest beamed when he saw Vicchan stand on his own paws. He scrambled to scoop him up in his arms, turning to Viktor gratefully. "I really mean it when I say that you're a living legend."

 

Viktor nodded weakly and shuffled to his bed, passing out before he knew anything more. Not even Yuuri's cry of surprise registered in his mind.

 

\---------

 

The sound of tapping on tree roots woke him, along with the light of the late morning sun. Viktor sat up wearily on his bed. Briefly, he thought the damnable woodpeckers were back at wrecking the roots. Then he vaguely remembered what happened the previous night -- he healed a stranger's dog.

 

"Hey, excuse me!"

 

The voice outside was instantly recognizable -- that stranger, Yuuri. What did he want?

 

"Hey!! I need to talk to you!"

 

Viktor brushed the bangs out of his eyes and sauntered over to the entryway. "What did you want...?"

 

Yuuri backed away, a little startled. "I have a request."

 

Viktor stared at him with a blank expression. Slowly, Yuuri got down on his knees and looked up at Viktor.

 

"I want you to take me on as your apprentice!!"


End file.
